“My father owns five-eighths of it. Of the other three-eighths, one part belongs to the estate of one James Barr, and the other two to Mr. Whyland of Boston, who has very kindly loaned us his check for three thousand dollars to help my father out of his difficulties;” and Oliver passed the check over for inspection.
“Seems straight enough,” grunted the doctor. “I will call again to-morrow. I have no more time to spare to-day;” and catching up his hat, he left without another word.
“Oliver, you have saved us from ruin!” cried Mr. Bright with tears in his eyes. “But for you it would have gone hard indeed with us.”
“I am glad the search has ended so well,” said the boy; “glad for your sake, and glad for my own.”
Several years have passed. Oliver is now at college, and has for a room-mate Gus Gregory, who is as stout and as full of good-humor as ever.
The Aurora mine is in active operation, managed by competent and trustworthy men. James Barr’s interest was purchased by Mr. Whyland, and the money went to support the surveyor’s aged mother, his only known relative.
The Spaniard, known to the reader as Colonel Mendix, is now in prison, suffering the full penalty of the law. Let us trust that when he comes forth once more it will be with the determination to lead a better life in the future.
Mr. Bright still lives at his old home, surrounded with all the ease and comfort that money can procure. Of Oliver he never tires of talking.
“One boy in a thousand,” he says. “Thank God for giving me such a son in my old age!”